


It Never Made Me Stronger

by niallersdirtymofo



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5SoS is mentioned briefly, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Love/Hate, Niall and Perrie kinda sleep together bc grief btw, Sex drugs and alcohol addiction, Sexual Content, There's a car accident, but he's just so sad, eleni saves Niall, everyone dies except Niall, im so so sorry, niall spirals out of control, simon is still his mentor, well actually they'll save each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallersdirtymofo/pseuds/niallersdirtymofo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I remember nine years ago, when I was a bright eyed 16 year old X-Factor hopeful... I'd try to picture what my life could look like if I ever made it big. I saw myself recording albums, selling out arenas, and working with some of the biggest artists in the world.</p>
<p>And it's true... I did do those things... all of those things and more.</p>
<p>I never imagined I'd be a 25 year old alcoholic with a different woman in my bed every night. I never thought I'd be someone so full of hate and anger that I could no longer find joy in anything besides meaningless sex, alcohol and drugs. I never knew I'd sink so low where I could be so cruel and disrespectful toward those who were only trying to help me.</p>
<p>But then again, I also didn't think I'd be the last remaining member of One Direction either.</p>
<p>People like to say "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger..."<br/>Well... it never made me stronger at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The one where everyone dies in a car accident and Niall is the only survivor. I'm sorry... it's hella sad.<br/>Yeah, I said HELLA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hashtag Heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this with my friend Shaheer :) please leave feedback

 

Eleni's P.O.V

 

'Niall Horan, 19, only surviving member of the world-wide phenomenon that was once known as One Direction, is currently in critical condition at Jewish-Barnes hospital in Saint Louis, Missouri. Harry Styles, 19, Louis Tomlinson, 21, Zayn Malik, 20, and Liam Payne, 19, were all involved in a horrific car accident Saturday night which took the lives of not only Horan's band mates, but also two members of the band 5 Seconds of Summer, who happened to be touring with them. Horan has been in a comatose state since the accident, and no other details can be released at this time.'

 

I dropped my spoon into my bowl of cereal, splashing milk onto my shirt as well as the newspaper my father was reading; I ignored him as he complained about my clumsiness, my eyes blinkeing rapidly as I watched the news reporter subtly read the evening news off of a teleprompter, her face much too stony and emotionless for what she had just revealed.

 

No... this can't be happening. This has to be some type of joke... or a prank. They cannot be... gone. This is just a joke that has gone too far; another one of those Mr. X rumors that throws this fandom into hysteria.

 

I was drawn from my inner rambling as I heard my father repeating my name, "Len... Len... Eleni Rae!" he finally yelled out loudly, jolting me from my thoughts.

 

I slowly turned my head to meet his aggravated eyes, "Leni, what has gotten into you? Why are you eating cereal when it's dinner time anyway?" he asked, annoyance obvious in his tone.

 

"I-- I-- I d-don't know," I stuttered out, barely able to move my lips. My mouth was numb, my face was numb, hell, my entire body was numb.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" my father asked with slight edge in his tone, obviously annoyed by my zombie-like state, while I on the other hand was dying inside.

 

My mother was standing at the stove as she continued to hum while cooking her famous McPherson spehgetti, blissfully unaware of the devastation that was rapidly consuming me as I stared blankly at the television.

 

The news had already shifted to something my father obviously considered to be more relevant as he leaned forward in his chair and turned the volume up a few pegs.

 

Apparently there was something he didn't approve of going on with our nation's healthcare, "God damn Obamacare," he mumbled under his breath in an accusing tone and shaking his head lightly in disapproval.

 

I was staring down at one of the last remaining cheerios in my bowl; I felt like I was playing freeze tag and was waiting for someone on my team to unfreeze me... however, that person never came. I was still frozen in place as my mind attempted to process what I could have sworn I just heard on the news. At this point in time I couldn't even be sure if it was real; I shook my head roughly, clearing my thoughts as I quickly dug my phone out of my pocked and pulled up my Twitter app.

 

I waited anxiously for the page to load, almost expecting to just see a bunch of boring trends that had nothing to do with me, however, as my eyes skimmed those neatly ordered hashtags, I felt a painful sensation begin to consume me as I stared wide-eyed down at my phone. A rapid heartbeat also accompanied the aching in my throat as I tried so hard not to cry. Every single trend had something to do with One Direction:

 

#RIP1D 

 

#WereSoSorryDirectionersFromBeliebers 

 

#Pray4Niall 

 

#PleaseSaveNiall 

 

#Directioners

 

#AlwaysRememberUANandTMH

 

#Pray4TheBoysFamilies 

 

#Pray4Directioners

 

#Moments 

 

#NiallWeNeedYou

 

#Torn

 

My jaw hung open as my eyes blurred and began stinging with hot tears that were plummeting down my cheeks. I didn't even know these boys, so my brain was trying to reason with me, telling me to calm down, telling me that I shouldn't be this affected by the death of four strangers... but my heart... my heart was shattered... absolutely demolished as I realized that I'd lost something that day; I'd lost my idols, I'd lost a part of my family, and although I'd never actually met them, and they didn't know I even existed... I lost four people who I loved with all of my heart.

 

My father was staring at me as I pushed my bowl away and began sobbing into my hands. I heard my mother drop the pot she was holding, spilling some of the boiling water onto the stove, making it sizzle. She rushed to my side, wrapping her lithe arms around me, "What's wrong, baby? What's the matter?" she cooed gently, obviously trying to go about the situation carefully.

 

After a few seconds of more crying without giving her an answer I felt her stand up slightly, her voice floating away from me, towards my father, "What happened, Richard?" she demanded, hoping my father would have the answers.

 

"No clue, she just started balling," he mumbled sounding bored as he turned another page in his newspaper, "You know, she's 15... she cries about everything these days, Chloe," he replied, trying to get my mother off his back.

 

I immediately stopped crying, and after a few deep breaths I tore my hands away from my face and glared at him, "Look!" I whispered in a harsh tone; I handed him my phone, watching as my mother scurried over to hover behind him.

 

"What is this... is it.. that uh, Twitter nonsense? I don't know what this means," he muttered as he held the phone a little ways a way from his face because of his far-sightedness. I stood up quickly, jabbing my finger towards the array of heart breaking hash tags.

 

After a few more seconds of silence, my mother seemed to understand what the problem was, because she immediately brought her hand to her mouth and looked at me with wide eyes, "Leni, is that... that band you love so much?" she asked in a small voice, probably afraid I was going to collapse in a fit of sobs once more, however at this point, I felt I was able to control myself... at least until I could be alone.

 

I gave her a subtle nod, trying to will away the tears that were still shining in my eyes.

 

My father shot his head up, watching me as I silently stared back at them; I could still feel my lip quivering.

 

"Wait, that band... One Dimension?" he asked, still sounding confused as he looked up at my mother to see if he'd gotten the name correct. Fail.

 

"One Direction," I said through clenched teeth, "The name was One Direction," I continued, almost unable to control myself, "Consisting of Harry, Louis, Zayn, Liam, and Niall," I took a deep breath as I looked at my parents, "Four of them died in a car accident today, and one might not make it," I whispered, afraid that if I tried to talk any louder I'd break down all over again.

 

I took a few deep breaths trying to calm myself again as that tightness in my chest returned, I stared down at my lap for a few moments until I braved a look at my parents, my father's voice drawing my eyes to his, "Hon, they're just a boy band," he said nonchalantly, "No need to get so emotional about it..." he trailed off before immediately looking over his shoulder again at my mother who had a shocked expression which mirrored mine.

 

"Oh! Does that mean we get a refund on the tickets then?" he wondered out loud, "Weren't you supposed to go to their concert this Friday?" he asked again, completely oblivious to my temper which was rising to a dangerous level.

 

My mother realized a nuclear bomb was about to drop and immediately tried to make my father understand my irrational state, "Richard, those four young boys are dead; Leni loved them. Don't be so heartless," she scolded, her eyes flicking from me, back to his.

 

"Oh... right uh... sorry for your... loss?" he stated but left it more as a question as he looked to my mother for reassurance.

 

I'd had enough. How fucking thick was he? I released an angry groan as I quickly pushed myself up from the table, "They were NOT just a boy band! They may have been nothing to you, but they were everything to me!" I screamed as I stormed past them, down the hallway and into my room. After slamming my door shut, I put my head in my hands and slid down to the worn, cream colored carpet.

 

I knew I was being dramatic, but unless you were a directioner, I don't think you could understand the pain I was feeling. Sure I'd cried over these boys numerous times, but this time was different... things would never be the same. I would never see a new picture, there would never be a new single... or another interview. I may not have physically known them, but in my heart and soul... they were my best friends.

 

My parents didn't understand. They thought I was just in a 'boy band phase'. Hell, half the world believed that their fame would be short-lived. Although at times I also was afraid they might break up... I didn't think that their lives would be short-lived as well.

 

I crawled to the corner of my room and pulled out my guitar; I'd started playing three years ago when I first saw One Direction on the X-Factor. The fact that they took a risk and their dreams came true encouraged me to peruse my passion for music as well. I tried strumming a few chords in hopes of calming myself down, but my hands were shaking so greatly, there was no use. 

 

As I curled up into a ball on my floor, too lazy to drag myself to bed, I cried myself into a state of numbness. My phone was in my hands, and I was staring intently at the screen, and although I was completely gutted and torn apart because of losing four of those boys from that boy band I loved so much, as I traced my finger over the screen on a picture of the blue eyed Irish one, I couldn't help the little bout of gratefulness that sat in the pit of my stomach. I felt guilty... but I was so happy that he was alive.

 

I know as directioners, we aren't supposed to admit favorites, but thank God he was still alive. If anyone could pick themselves up from this tragedy, I knew it would be Niall. I knew he would be okay.

 

Who knew that I could be so wrong?

 


	2. The Last Member of One Direction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a bit smutty ;)

NIALL POV: (five years later)

 

I groaned internally as an annoying beeping started pounding on my brain; I stretched my arms over my head and immediately felt my good mood plummet as I remembered the meeting I was supposed to attend that morning. Fuck. Fuck no. Fuck this shit. I swear Simon's out of his mind. Me? Sing? Play guitar? In his dreams! Hah! I haven't played in how long? Five years? 

 

I kept my eyes closed as I felt the sheets rustling next to me, signifying that my bedmate was awake. I kept thinking about the meeting today... didn't Si say that I was going to be meeting someone to help me out of my 'slump'? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm not in a damn slump, I'm in a fucking 40 foot pit being buried alive... and that's the way I fucking like it.

 

"Hey, you awake?" My thoughts were interrupted by the whisper of the slut currently hogging my sheets. Well, not exactly a slut, but an easy fuck nonetheless. I can't judge though. Who am I to call her a slut? I'm no saint either.

 

I shrugged out of my mini daze and fumbled around blindly until my finger jabbed the snooze button on the alarm. As I slowly rolled over, her brown eyes perked up as they met mine, and I suddenly realized I didn't even know her name. Shit. What was I supposed to call her? Love? Yeah, love... these ignorant girls always ate those pet names up.

 

Before I could speak, her lips curved into a little smirk and she began sliding closer to me; I sighed as her lips attached to my neck and she began sucking gently, throwing one of her legs over my body so that she was straddling me.

 

I was about to protest, but as the little skank began moving her hips in a circle, grinding her crotch against mine, I decided that Simon could just fuck off. This bitch was practically begging for a morning fuck, and who was I to deny her?

 

I rested my arms behind my head and stared up at this stranger who I'd brought home last night as she wriggled her hips, further making me harden. She wasn't the prettiest girl, but she wasn't a total dog either. I'm assuming she looked better when I picked her up at the pub, and the insane hair and smeared make up were just the remnants of the previous nights activities.

 

I took my eyes off of her and glanced at the pillow she'd been using, groaning at the smudged eyeliner and lipstick stains all over it. That fucking clown make up was always destroying my pillow cases. I reached my hand into my side table and grabbed a condom before quickly sliding it on, much to her dismay. I could tell she was one of those girls who didn't like to use rubbers, but the hell with that. Who knows where she's been...

 

I pretty much just laid there as she rode me; she seemed more than happy to be doing all the work. I could tell she was trying to be very enthusiastic, but in all honesty, I was just trying to get it over with. I could feel my stomach in knots, warning me that the end was near, and of course that's when she decided to slow it down and wiggle her hips in circles. Fuck this shit, I don't have all fucking day.

 

I quickly flipped her, and as I hovered over her, I could feel her body withering beneath mine. I took her hands, locking them over her head like I remember she wanted it last night. All of these sluts were the same; they wanted to be held down, pinned to the bed, and made to feel helpless. In all honesty, I had no idea why, but if they wanted me to dominate, then I would oblige.

 

I only lasted a few more seconds, fucking her hard against the headboard as the tension that was coiling in the pit of my stomach suddenly unraveled throughout my entire body; if I'm being honest though, she was a good lay, but I'd had better.

 

My thrusts quickly came to a halt as soon as I'd gotten what I'd needed and I pulled out of her; she gave me a confused look as I scooted away, pulling off the condom and quickly tossing it into the bin next to the bed. After I started bringing the whores home, that's when I realized it'd be a good idea to put one there. Picking up used condoms off of the floor later was fucking disgusting.

 

"You've gotta leave, love" I said with no emotion, motioning towards the door. The confusion that clouded her face quickly morphed into shock. What? She expected me to actually like her? Sluts like her were a dime a dozen, she was nothing special. I guess it was time for her to understand that.

 

"Wha-what?" she stuttered, the shock was quickly turning into anger.

 

My original plan was to leave her with a note but unfortunately that had backfired; hey, at least I got one last fuck out of her though. 

 

After pulling on my boxers, I stood from the bed and turned to look down at the naked bitch still sprawled across my mattress, "I said it's time for you to leave. I've got business to take care of," I replied, turning my back on her and walking toward my chest to find something to wear to the stupid fucking meeting. 

 

"Umm... okay," she mumbled, sounding defensive. I didn't turn to face her as I pretended to be carefully picking out my clothing, when in actuality I'd probably just wear the same shit I wore last night that was laying on the floor. It was only Simon, I no longer gave a fuck about his opinion, or anyone's for that matter. 

 

"I guess I'll leave then," she continued as she stood from the bed and slinked over to wrap her arms around my waist, "We'll meet later?" she asked sounding hopeful. I cringed away from her as she tried resting her chin on my shoulder. I really didn't want to have to be this blunt with her, but damn. Her body was perfect but I guess her mind needed a few screws fixed.

 

I gave her a gentle shove away from me as I retreated to the side of the bed, grabbing her skirt and tiny shirt off the floor. Although she wasn't doing anything wrong necessarily, I found her attitude and demeanor annoying and realized brutal honesty was the only way I was going to be able to pry this leach off of me.

 

"Get your clothes on," I ordered, getting a little tired of her prancing around in the nude. Sure I was a guy, and I loved tits and ass but for God's sake, have some decency.

 

After I watched her clumsily put her poor excuse for clothing on, I let out an exasperated sigh, "We won't meet later, we had a one night stand. This is as long as it lasts. I won't be calling you, and you won't be calling me," I muttered harshly, before stalking across the room to busy myself, waiting for her to let herself out.

 

She had been attempting to slip her feet into her high heels and as I neared the chest once more, I jumped as one of her hooker heels crashed against the wall right over my shoulder. I spun around quickly, apparently I was going to have to deal with this crazy bitch with daddy issues for longer than I had planned. Hopefully Simon would understand.

 

Her expression grew murderous as she held up the other high heel and hurdled it across the room. Although her apparent aim for my head was terrible, she did manage to hit the picture frame that was sitting on the chest, causing it to crash to the ground, spilling glass across the carpet.

 

I stared at the destroyed frame lying on the ground and didn't miss the four pairs of eyes that were staring back at me from under the red high heel. My throat tightened and I swallowed loudly as I pried my eyes away from their haunting faces.

 

"You fucking bitch!" I yelled, raising my voice to a threatening level. 

 

"You asshole!" she screamed back, flicking her matted black extensions over her shoulder as she turned and marched out of my room, barefoot I might add.

 

I clenched my fists so as not to chase after her; my life may be fucking shit right now, but I still wasn't low enough to beat on women. Yet.

 

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and slowly walked over toward the shattered frame. I winced as I heard my front door slam and turned to glare for a moment at my empty bedroom. I had a familiar ache in my throat as I hesitantly reached down, pulling the picture out from under the rubbish.

 

I had been telling myself not to look at it; not to look at them. Not to think about them, but as I stared down at the five smiling faces, including my own, I felt a new anger surge through me. A fury that I had been able to keep buried deep inside for quite a while. I glared down at those four faces which were not my own for a few more seconds before crumbling the picture in my hand. I balled my hand into a fist and began punching the dark blue wall which just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

"You fucking pricks!" I screamed out at the people who no longer existed, punching the wall for a second time.

 

"Why the fuck did you leave me here?!" I yelled as I punched the wall once more, feeling a crack and a painful jolt course though my arm, but I was too blinded by my rage to care.

 

"Why the fuck didn't I go too?" I screamed again, my voice breaking slightly as I crumbled to the ground, holding my bruised and bloodied first against my chest. I could feel that ache in my throat getting stronger and a sting in my eye, but I wouldn't cry for them. Not again. I refused to. I hadn't cried for them in years.

 

I picked up the sluts high heel and threw it blindly behind me, before standing and taking my hands to shove everything off of my dresser. The only way I was able to distract myself from crying like a fucking pussy was to lash out at whoever or whatever was close. My furniture probably really hated me and all of my tantrums to be honest.

 

"Fuck!" I screamed out one last time as I pounded my fists against my dresser, further denting the already dented surface.

 

Once I was able to calm down and pull myself out of the rage I had coursing through me, I slowly opened up my hand to see the crumbled up, destroyed photograph. I watched on emotionlessly as I tilted my hand, allowing the good memories of my past to fall to the ground. I continued trying to breathe deeply as I stood there, staring down at the balled up photo, until I was ripped from my thoughts by the shrill ring of my cell phone. I knew it was Simon, and I knew he was going to be bitching at me, so I chose to ignore the nagging prick and dragged myself into the bathroom.

 

I began washing my the blood from my knuckles, glancing up at my reflection in the dirty mirror. As I studied my face, I was drawn to my blood shot eyes. They were still as blue as ever, but they didn't gleam anymore, or sparkle, or shine. They looked dead and lifeless.

 

I remember nine years ago, when I was a bright eyed 16 year old X-Factor hopeful... I'd try to picture what my life could look like if I ever made it big. I saw myself recording albums, selling out arenas, and working with some of the biggest artists in the world.

 

And it's true... I did do those things... all of those things and more.

 

I never imagined I'd be a 25 year old alcoholic with a different woman in my bed every night. I never thought I'd be someone so full of hate and anger that I could no longer find joy in anything besides meaningless sex, alcohol and drugs. I never knew I'd sink so low where I could be so cruel and disrespectful toward those who were only trying to help me.

 

But then again, I also didn't think I'd be the last remaining member of One Direction either.

 

Getting ready took a while considering the fact that I spent almost an hour throwing up all the alchohol I had consumed in the pub last night. Usually I was able to hold my liquor, after all I'm Irish, but the fact that I'd gotten so worked up this morning made me too exhausted to fight off the hangover. It's no wonder I didn't know the girl's name; I was so shitfaced, I probably didn't even know my own name last night. Not that I gave a flying fuck.

 

I didn't bother shaving the stubble that was covering my cheeks and chin. To be honest, Simon was lucky that I even bothered putting on fresh clothes. I haven't given a shit about my appearance in a long time... about five years to be exact. I've got alcohol, money, and more willing sluts than I know what to do with. I don't need anything, or anyone else.

 

____________________________________________________________________________


	3. A Negative 47 on the Horan Hotness Scale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall meets Eleni... tension ensues.

**Niall's P.O.V**

I trudged down the brightly lit hallway, making my way to Simon's office; after glaring at his name plate which decorated the door for a few seconds, I hastily grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open, not even bothering to knock.

As I entered the room, I glanced around until my eyes fell on a petite girl standing in the corner near Simon's book shelf; she had her back to me so I just admired the view for a few seconds before clearing my throat, causing her to straighten up and turn around quickly.

"Hello," I said with a smirk, she must have been Simon's assistant or something, so I may as well try and put her to work, "Can I get a bottle of water?" I asked in a rather demanding tone, and I watched as her wide eyes seemed to widen even further.

I saw her eyes darken and she angrily began to open her mouth, however before she could speak, we were interrupted as Simon entered the room and made his way to his desk, "You're both here! Brilliant... let's get this meeting underway, shall we?" he asked kindly, glancing first at me, then the girl on the opposite side of the room.

Our eyes met for a moment and I studied her face; she was very pretty although she did wear a lot of make up which I wasn't a big fan of. Her hair was bleached and the clothes she wore were rather eye catching. All in all I'd probably rate her as a 7 on the Horan Hotness scale... maybe an 8 as long as she kept her mouth shut.

We looked away from one another and she stepped lightly toward the chairs in front of Simon's desk before gracefully slinking into one. I hadn't made any move to approach the desk, hell, I didn't want to sit and exchange fucking pleasantries. I wanted to get in and get out.

"Come on Niall, please have a seat," Simon said in a tight voice; I could tell he was trying to stay civilized considering our last impromptu meeting had ended in a screaming match and my first going through his wall.

I studied the wall behind him, eyeing the small picture frame that hung over the spot to cover the damage I'd inflicted last time; Simon was giving me a hard stare as my lips quirked up into a demeaning smirk, "I'm good right here, thanks though Si," I replied in an overly polite tone.

The girl who occupied one of the chairs subtly attempted to peek at me from over her shoulder and as soon as her eyes met mine she quickly turned back around, her back rigid and her leg bouncing up and down, portraying quite an anxious habit.

"The help you're hiring is getting prettier, Simon, but I wouldn't think you'd allow her to get away with dressing like that," I commented, leaning against the wall.

"Excuse me?" She screamed as she shot up from her chair and turned to face me, "Excuse you on two accounts, One: I am not, as you like to say 'the help', and Two: Who are you to judge me by my clothes? I'm not judging you on the fact it looks like you haven't showered in a week," she spat, narrowing her eyes at me. I'll admit, even though I was rather offended by her announcement, I couldn't deny the fire that lit her eyes wasn't attractive. She had a lot of fight in her... I kinda liked that.

I ignored her accusing glare and turned toward Simon, "I thought this was a meeting between me and you, so why is this _cunt_ here?" I said in almost a whisper as I took a few steps closer to his desk. 

"Ha, cunt... wow _the_ Niall Horan just called me a cunt," she laughed mockingly, shaking her head slightly, "Too bad no one could give less of a fuck about you, anymore," she murmured, crossing her arms over her chest before reclaiming her seat and crossing her legs.

Alright, forget everything I said before... this girl is a bitch and not attractive at all. She's a negative 47 on the Horan Hotness Scale.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, "Niall, please just take a seat and I will make this as painless as possible," he said in exasperation before looking at me with pleading eyes.

After a few more seconds of refusal, I begrudgingly agreed as I dragged myself forward and slumped into the chair next to _the cunt_.

"As we all have already figured out, I've gathered you both here today to discuss something which could greatly benefit your careers," he began, taking a few seconds to make eye contact with each of us before moving on to his next statement; I was only somewhat listening as I got distracted by a fly that was sitting on the desk, cleaning it's head:

"Work together..."

"Write an album..."

"Record the album together..."

I had my chin resting on my fist as I continued staring at the dirty little insect, seriously why the fuck do they do that for so long? To be honest their little hands always creeped me out--

I was ripped from my insect analysis as I felt someone step on my foot, digging their heel right into it, "Ow! What the fuck? Are you mental?" I asked, scooting away from the bitch who was grinning smugly as she studied her acrylic finger nails.

"Fucking bitch!" I griped, rubbing the top of my shoe as if that would do anything to relieve the dulling pain.

"Prick," she mouthed off right back

"Cunt!"

"Asshole!"

"Fuck you!"

"No thanks!" she stated flatly, turning away from me once more to look at an exhausted looking Simon who was staring at us sadly.

"Just stop it! You're acting like children!" He yelled, loudly, overpowering my come back that I was about to fire off. I shut my mouth and looked back toward Simon, waiting for him to go on, "Maybe this was a bad idea..." he trailed off, holding his head between his hands as he continued mumbling uder his breath.

I thought about the bits and pieces I had just heard him saying and quickly pieced them all together, "Wait, so you want me to write a new album... with _her_?" I asked incredulously, not even sparing her a glance as I quickly got to my feet and began heading towards the door.

"Wait!" I heard a voice yell out, causing me to stop in my tracks because of the exasperation I heard in her tone, "Just listen to him... this could help both of us! You're going no where! I could help give you a new image, Niall," she rambled, obviously afraid that I was about to leave that office and never return which I had every intention of doing.

"Niall, think of the boys... what would they want you to do?" Simon offered, immediately lighting a fire within me. I hated when _anyone_ brought them up and he very well knew that.

"Don't fucking bring _them_ into this," I whispered as I slowly turned around to face them.

"Niall, I know your financial situation, I know about your gambling problem. You are going to hit rock bottom very, very soon unless you make a change, and I think Eleni could help you with that," he said softly obviously worried about my reaction.

"Can she even sing?" I asked, rolling my eyes before turning to look at the girl who apparently went by the name of _Eleni_ ; as our eyes locked I saw that fire light up again and despite the growing hate I could feel for her festering in my heart... I _just knew_ that this was something I needed to do. Simon was right, I'd blown about every dime I'd made in my short three year career.

"Leni, could you give him a sample please?" Simon asked, gesturing toward her guitar which was propped up against the desk.

After releasing an exaggerated sigh, she grabbed the instrument and placed it in her lap. I stared longingly at the guitar, this being the first time in years I'd actually felt the desire to play one. My thoughts were overrun with music as she slowly began strumming and her voice overtook the room;

_"I'm three steps from the edge, woah_ _Don't push me over it_ _Don't you know, don't you know_

_Every girl is capable of murder, if you hurt her_ _Watch out you don't push me any further, any further_ _You're not the only one walking 'round with a loaded gun_ _This little girl is capable of murder, cause you hurt her"_

I was stunned into silence as her powerful voice surrounded me, and in that moment, I realized I didn't need to hear anymore... but I absolutely wanted to. Despite how much I still disliked her, there was no doubting obvious talent;

_"My hands are clean, not yet a killer_ _Ain't I your queen?_ _And did you tell her?_ _Cause you broke down all my shoulda known betters_ _And then I followed you home, throwin' sticks and stones_

_I'm two steps from the edge, woah _Don't push me over it_ _Don't you know, don't you know__

_Every girl is capable of murder, if you hurt her _Watch out you don't push me any further, any further_ _You're not the only one walking 'round with a loaded gun_ _This little girl is capable of murder, cause you hurt her"__

It wasn't until the song ended that I realized that she'd been staring right at me while she was singing about being capable of murder, and I'd be lying if I said a chill didn't run down my spine. I had yet to break eye contact from her, however my attention was drawn over to Simon as he spoke up, "So, what'd you think?" he asked curiously.

I took a second to study Eleni once more before meeting Simon's eyes; even though my mind was encouraging me to give her the proper acknowledgement of talent that she deserved, the little smirk that was resting on her lips immediately made me realize she didn't need the ego boost, "She was alright," I lied through my teeth, shrugging my shoulder slightly to help my words seem more believable.

"Alright? Yeah okay..." she mumbled with every intention of my hearing her.

"Someone's a little full of themselves, yeah?" I accused in a pleasant voice as she placed her guitar back into its case.

She didn't respond but rather picked up her instrument and slowly approached me; I was a little afraid she was going to kick me in the balls with those damn high heels so I tensed up slightly as she came to stand right in front of me.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the studio, 8am... don't be late, Horan," she said menacingly, before sidestepping me and letting herself out of the office.

After taking a few seconds to recover, I turned around to face Simon, "So what circle of Hell did she crawl out of?" I asked in what may have seemed like a joking tone, however, I was being completely serious.

"Niall, give her a chance... she's a good person. She could be good for _you_ ," he said in a serious tone as he shuffled some papers, "Here are some of her songs she's written, and she's agreed to work with you to turn them into duets, so go easy on her," he chided, as if I were a child.

I grabbed the jumbled papers and gave him a swift nod as I turned to storm out of the room, however before I reached the door his words froze me in place, "You'll thank me for this, Niall... maybe not today... but one day... you'll thank me for this."

"I doubt it," I mumbled, shoving the door open without even a glance behind me. What the hell does he think I'll thank him for? Giving me everything only for it to get taken away again? That's why these past few years I hadn't let myself get attached to _anyone_... and I wasn't about to start now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way... the song that Eleni sings is called "This Little Girl" by Cady Groves


End file.
